


To Tell the Truth

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Series: Truth Verse [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor who season 8 - Fandom, Twelfth Doctor - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Sexual Tension, Whoffaldi, whouffaldi, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whouffaldi moments woven between episodes. Mostly canon-compliant. </p><p>  <i>Chapter Nine: Hell Bent but with more kissing. And an added twist on the ending....</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Device

“So… what is it, exactly?” Clara pushed a lock of hair out of her face as she leaned in.

“It’s a sonic based neural reader.” The Doctor turned the device over in his slender hands.

“CORRECT.” The tinny, mechanical voice obviously emanated from the box and he peered closer at it, frowning.

“Oh right, I knew that.” Clara’s mouth quirked.

“INCORRECT”

The Doctor smirked down at her. “Obviously not.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “So, it’s basically a lie detector?”

He shook his head and placed the box back on the console, rounding to the other side to fiddle with some switch or other. He spoke rapidly as his hands flew “No, it’s vastly more complex. It detects minute vocal inflections and flaws but then also distills from the essence of existing fact to produce results that are objectively able to indicate usage of the imagination or storytelling or –“

“Or lying. Basically, it detects lies. Where I’m from, we call that a lie detector.” Clara grabbed the box and ran a finger along one smooth edge.

He grimaced. “You make it seem so personal, so trivial…  it doesn’t just detect falsehoods, it extrapolates from universal truths. And I’d rather  we shut it off or put it away into storage, if it’s all the same to you.” He gestured for her to hand it over.

Feeling playful, she held it behind her back. “Why? The Surchief of Calpax gave it to me, not you.”

The shadow of a too-heavy past flickered across his face. “Believe me, no one wants to know the truth that much of the time.”

Clara felt the levity slipping away and grasped onto it with both hands, teasing him in a sing-song voice “Ohh, you’re just afraid it’s gonna tell me all your deep dark secrets.”

 “CORRECT.”

She was so startled by the machine’s answer that she nearly dropped it. “Ha ha! Well, now I suppose I’ve just got to find the right questions!”

“Clara…” The Doctor’s heavy brows knit together as he moved toward her, but there was a glint of humor in the starkly blue eyes beneath them.

She scurried away, still holding the box behind her back. “Hmmm, let’s start with an easy one. The Doctor doesn’t always think before he speaks.”

“CORRECT.” It vibrated a bit in her hand as it answered. The Doctor feinted a half-hearted move to overtake her but she dodged him, giggling.

“The Doctor has a bit of an ego problem…”

“CORRECT”

The Doctor exhaled noisily “Clara, you are insufferably irritating…”

“INCORRECT”

 “Oooh, you don’t think I’m irritating at all, do you?” She crowed.  He stopped in his tracks and shook his head, an indulgent smile tugging at his lips. He retreated to the console to let her enjoy her victory. Happy to see him playing along in his own way, she raised her voice for effect “In fact… The Doctor thinks I’m brilliant!”

“CORRECT”

“And pretty, too. The Doctor thinks I’m very pretty, despite all his recent slights.” She narrowed her eyes at him, issuing a tacit challenge. He looked torn between amusement and dismay.

“CORRECT.”

“Alright, that’s enough. C’mon, you’ve had your fun.” He held out a hand expectantly, again.

This time, she acquiesced with shrug, sashaying the length of the room, smugly. “It wasn’t anything terrible. I mean, it’s not like I’m saying ‘Oh, and The Doctor also wants to shag me rotten.’”

Their fingertips brushed as she handed the box over.

 “CORRECT”

Her eyes went wide but The Doctor merely scowled down at the device.

 “It’s broken.”

Somehow, she didn’t believe him even before the device answered.

“INCORRECT.”

“Shut up, you infernal machine!” He shook it roughly, looking it over, ostensibly for an off-switch.

Clara chewed on her bottom lip, contemplatively.  She shouldn’t pursue it – that she knew. But even the The Doctor had admitted the little device’s accuracy.

“But… do you want to… shag me?” She admonished herself inwardly for the plaintive tone as much as the question itself. True, hers was a curious nature and a candid moment had become even rarer since The Doctor regenerated. Sometimes she missed him when he was a little sillier and a little less stern. But he was still her Doctor. He was still the heart(s) and soul of the man she had come to admire and adore; the living hero who showed her the universe in all its chaotic glory. The man who made her pulse race in ways that she couldn’t quite describe.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He didn’t meet her eyes

“That’s not an answer. Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it.” As she said it, she appreciated how true the words really were. There had always been a tension between them. Even now. Perhaps especially now, with him so hesitant to even touch her, these days. She missed his touch. Funny, it was something she’d barely thought about, until this point.

The Doctor slammed the box down on the console “Clara, we are not having this conversation.” He leaned forward, braced on both hands and turned his head away. She could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in profile.

“INCORRECT.”

“Of for the love of… ” He turned back only to glare heatedly at the device.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. It was obvious this whole line of questioning made him inordinately uncomfortable. She wondered if it would have made the old him freeze up like this or if he’d have played it off with a joke. Teasing him was one thing, but she didn’t want to chase him away. It was so damned difficult to get him to open up at all; prying would only make him close off even more. It hurt when he shut her out, far more than his petty insults about her looks. She shifted her weight, suddenly less amused with this turn of events.

“Alright fine, don’t tell me. Doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’ll be shaggin’ anyway, now that I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“INCORRECT”

“Boyfriend?” He finally met her gaze, his face unreadable.

Clara felt her skin prickle under his scrutiny. Her face flushed and, this time, she was the one to look away. “Well, things are going well with Danny. We could be soon.”

“CORRECT.”

“So, there’s nothing gonna happen between you and me, anyway.”

“INCORRECT.”

She felt her breath hitch and they both stared at the box for a long moment. Finally, The Doctor scooped it up and turned to face her, one eyebrow raised.

“….Can I put it away, now?”


	2. The Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place directly after "In the Forest of the Night". 
> 
> This chapter gets a bit naughty, but so far, only for Clara ;-)

As they headed back in from her balcony, she could feel The Doctor starting to tense up. She drew a deep breath in preparation. He hadn’t mentioned it yet, but it had been in the post, that’s for sure.

“So. You hadn’t told him.” He squared off to face her, not yet wearing his angriest eyebrows, but they were twitching closer together by the moment.

“I meant to, really. It just hadn’t been a good time.”

“Do I need to fetch the truth telling device out of storage, Clara?” His scolding tone ruffled her, even as a shiver passed down her spine, remembering the revelation that little device had made last time.

Despite his assertion otherwise, she knew the Doctor, this Doctor, still clearly thought about her in a more than platonic way. Being admonished by him in her living room was – naughty schoolgirl fantasies aside – hardly how she wanted to spend their time together.

She realized she had gone quiet too long and the two of them were engaged in some sort of unwitting staring contest. She broke first, sighing heavily and suddenly finding her own feet very interesting to look at. “No, there’s no need to force the truth out of me. It’s just… You don’t exactly make it easy, you know. Either of you.”

He made a disapproving sound. “That hardly warrants lying to me. Twice now, really. I don’t take well to it.”

“Even when it’s for your own good?” She prodded archly, raising her glance.

“Especially then.” His voice was gruff but she could already tell he wouldn’t stay mad long.

“I am sorry. Really. I wish you two would bother to get to know one another a little instead of always putting me in the middle, though. Danny’s really very nice.”

The Doctor scoffed, rolling his eyes. “So was Cardinal Richelieu if you caught him on a good day.” He muttered.

Clara quirked her head and narrowed her eyes. “You know, I don’t believe that’s true.”

The Doctor waved his hands in a batting motion between them, reminding her a bit of Maebh for a second. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, if you’re going to continue carrying on with this PE Teacher, I have to know that I can still trust you.”

“Maths teacher. And of course you can trust me! I know this situation went a little bit awry. I didn't handle it as best I could’ve, I know that. You don’t need to lecture me like a child.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“And you don’t need to act like one.” It was a low blow, and by the look on his face, he knew it.

Clara felt her hands clench into fists. “Oh please, this all started because you don’t like that I’m dating a soldier. A former soldier, even! It’s your ridiculous prejudice that started it and now it's the two of you on either side pulling at me like I’m a rag doll! First you tell me that you’re not my boyfriend. Well fine! That’s all well and good, I think. I go out and find myself a nice, normal boyfriend. One who wants a nice, normal life without time travel and galaxies and alien races. One who doesn’t want to watch a solar flare while suspended among the stars. And I think, that’s alright because I've got The Doctor to travel on trains through space with and rob banks and… “ Her voice trailed off as her thoughts got tangled in knots. “I've forgotten where I was going with all of this…”

“I wasn't going to say anything, but I’m pretty sure your initial point is quite buried by now.” He smirked at her but it was with obvious fondness.

The anger and frustration that had been building up began to ebb away at the warmth in his gaze. “You’re a very frustrating man, I think, was my original thesis.” She shrugged. “But I don’t ever want to choose between you and my boyfriend. He is my home port, but you… you’re the perfectly exhilarating storm. I know you won’t be in my life forever, but I intend to enjoy getting swept away as many times as I can before you go.”

The Doctor swallowed hard, something unreadable passing over his face. “I’m not going anywhere. Not right now.” He stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. He reached out a hand as though to rest it on her shoulder. It hovered above its destination momentarily, the fingers flexing, before he followed through. He gave her shoulder a light, affectionate squeeze and she supposed it was the closest thing to a hug he felt comfortable initiating. She leaned into it.

They were so close, now, she could feel his breath on her face. If she dared, she could lift herself up on her toes and capture his mouth in a kiss. Her blood was suddenly pulsing in her veins, hot and fast. His pupils were blown wide and she could tell he, too, felt the effects of their proximity. Her skin burned under the heat of his hand. She licked her lips. With no small amount of satisfaction, she noted his gaze following the path of her tongue, before shifting back to meet her eyes. His lips parted briefly, as if to speak before slamming shut. He took a wide step back, removing his hand from her, and the spell was broken.

He brushed imaginary lint off of his jacket and cleared his throat. “You've probably still got marking to do, so I… I’ll see myself out, as it were.”

Since the TARDIS was only a few feet away, there was no point in offering to walk him to the door. She hid still-trembling hands behind her back. “See you Wednesday, then?”

He gave a thin smile. “Wednesday.”

After the familiar whooshing sound had ceased, Clara collapsed onto the couch. She was utterly drained and it wasn't from chasing after children in the Forest-that-was-London. Her skin was tingling with the aftershocks of the moment they had shared. She contemplated calling Danny over for a romp, but it seemed perverse to seek his touch while craving someone else’s.

Her fingers traced a path from her shoulder, down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She tried to imagine it was The Doctor’s slender hands on her, if he had not stopped himself. She pictured him tilting down to brush his lips to hers, a test to see if he would still be welcome. She would have given him his answer, framing his face (more weathered now, but no less desirable than he’d ever been) with her hands. She would have kissed him firmly, then, teasing his lips with her tongue until they parted. Clara wondered how this Doctor would taste. Sharp, savory and refined, she thought, maybe just a little bit bitter. Like a fine red wine.

In her mind, The Doctor’s hands traveled back up to cup her breasts. He might dip his head to nibble at her neck, finding sensitive places he shouldn't have any right to know about. Her nipples were taut and straining as she slid one hand beneath her jumper to caress herself. She imagined The Doctor pulling her over to the sofa and draping his lithe body over hers. His knee would settle between her legs, where she now desperately needed friction…

Like a bucket of cold water, the whooshing noise of the TARDIS brought her out of her reverie. She snapped to attention, quickly refastening the top button of her jeans.

The door swung open and object of her guilty fantasy popped halfway out.  “Thought you might need these.”  He brandished her students’ paperwork at her.

She gaped wordlessly at him before accepting the booklets and depositing them on a nearby table. She found she couldn't meet his eyes. Her whole face was probably cherry red.

He took in her distracted state. “Did I come at a bad time? I did just leave, right? I mean, it hasn't been a year or something. I don’t want you to have to fail your students on account of my taking too long to bring back their homework.”

Clara laughed and then covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. She uncovered her mouth and smiled at him. “No, you were just here. It’s only been a few minutes. Thank you, for thinking of these, Doctor.”

He returned her smile and this time it even reached his eyes. “Well, never let it be said I don’t look after the children.”

“Not by me, it won’t be.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt oddly comfortable. Clara was reminded that, under whatever else she was feeling for him, The Doctor was also her dearest friend. Somehow that also made her heart ache just a little bit more. 

They bid one another a good night and the TARDIS disappeared once again.


	3. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor are trapped. While it's questionable if he's happy to see her, that is definitely NOT a sonic screwdriver in his pocket. 
> 
> Takes place in a sort of grey area between "In the Forest of the Night" and "Dark Water" and is meant to be mostly compliant with canon.

One minute they were running at breakneck speed through an alien mausoleum and the next… the world had gone black.

Clara awoke to complete darkness. She was lying on her stomach and there was a definite crick in her neck. She tried to lift her head but it immediately struck something solid behind her. There was something lumpy and rather unyielding beneath her. She shifted her weight experimentally and found she was laid out along the length of a body. And oh God she hoped it was the Doctor.

“It’s alright; it’s me.” he whispered, correctly reading her rising panic. “That guard must have had some sort of knockout gas. It seems they’ve trapped us in a casket.” He continued, conversationally, as though it were the most normal place in the world to be imprisoned. Although for them, it nearly was. “Are you alright?”

She gave as much of a nod as the space would allow, bumping her nose against his chest in the process. “Ow. A bit cramped but no worse for wear. You?”

“Bit cramped.” He repeated tonelessly.

A nasty thought popped into her head. “There isn’t… anyone else in this thing, is there?”

“No, they put us in an empty one. It’s not really meant to accommodate more than one body, as it is.”

She relaxed a little, though she noticed The Doctor’s frame remained rigid. She could hear the discomfort in his voice. It occurred to her they would have had to hunch his shoulders up just to fit his whole lanky frame in the tiny space. Awkwardly forced inward, his long arms nearly enclosed her. She almost could have laughed at that – the first real embrace she got from him would be entirely a result of circumstance. She tried rolling over to the side to give him room but without much success. From where her head rested over his hearts, she thought she could hear them speed up just a little.

 “What are you doing?” He hissed.

“I was just… I thought you might be uncomfortable.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He deadpanned.

Clara rolled her eyes, though she knew he wouldn’t see it. “Well, what’s your brilliant plan to get us out of this, then?”

“The box is some sort of heavy wood.” He sniffed. “Similar to an oak, I think. We won’t be able to break through it. But if I noticed correctly when we saw them earlier – and of course I did – the hinges are metal.”

“So, sonic screwdriver, it is?”

He made a distracted sound of assent. “I’ll need your help to reach it. Again. I really ought to make a wrist harness for the thing.”

Clara smiled against his chest. “That might be a good idea. It never seems to be at hand when we need it, these days.” She wiggled her fingers experimentally. There was just the tiniest bit of space around them and she started to work her arm free. “Ok, so I think I can just reach it. I can feel it digging into my stomach”

As her hand moved lower, the Doctor drew a sharp breath and his body shuddered against her. “Stop!”

She froze.

“The screwdriver is in my jacket pocket.”

“Oh, but then what am I… oh. Oh!” She drew her hand away as fast as the crush of their various body parts would allow. Her heart suddenly felt like a sledgehammer and her face burned hot. From his reaction, there was no question what else could be pressing into her belly like that.

If she was honest with herself, she had given more than a passing thought to the Time Lord’s anatomy, in this incarnation as well as the previous.

Doctor made a noise she had never heard him make before, somewhere between a growl and a whimper.  She idly wondered what other noises he would make if she followed her sudden wild instinct to grind against him. Then she mentally chided herself for being so shameless.

He cleared his throat pointedly, bringing her focus back to the present. "Just see if you can grab it, yeah?"

"I hardly think now is the time..." She half-teased, biting back a nervous giggle.

"The. Screwdriver." He grit out from between obviously clenched teeth.

She sighed. Even before Danny this would have been inappropriate. Now that she had a boyfriend, it was infinitely more so. And it wasn’t like they were going to shag in a casket. The very idea was morbid and gruesome and there was not nearly enough room for good leverage.  

"Yeah, I know. I’m on it. I mean, um.” She cursed herself inwardly, pretending not to notice the throbbing heat building between her legs.

The Doctor said nothing but she could just picture the long-suffering look on his craggy face.

“Let me just see if I can bend my arm under your jacket." With some unpleasant maneuvering, she managed to angle her lower arm up and between them before realizing she couldn’t reach his breast pocket from there. She would need to move higher. She took a deep breath and shifted a little. One leg fell slightly to the side of his hip, the other she managed to bend at the knee, gently easing herself forward. Her short skirt rucked up between their bodies.

The Doctor said something in a language she did not recognize (though it sounded distinctly like an expletive) “Do you need to do that?”

 “Do what?” Clara was breathing heavily, though she knew only some of it was from the exertion. In fact, she was starting to feel a bit light-headed. She pushed herself up a little bit more, ignoring his sound of protest.

“That. That wiggly thing with your hips. It's very… distracting.” He was trying to sound irritated but it was not difficult to detect the note of desperation in his voice.

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re so bloody tall!” She scolded him flippantly. “And here I am, scaling you like a damn mountain!” A snort of laughter escaped her, the sheer ridiculousness of their situation making her giddy.  One more upward push and her hips lowered unintentionally. Her core brushed directly against his hard length and the Doctor choked out another unfamiliar sound. She could feel his hands clenching and unclenching somewhere around her lower back.

His jacket pocket was within her reach but she hesitated. She rolled her hips against his, this time deliberately. It felt just as good as she had imagined.

He bucked slightly before stilling himself.  “Clara. Stop. Please.” He was almost pleading.

“Are you certain that’s what you want?” she panted, tilting her face up toward his.

The Doctor’s voice was surprisingly gentle, his breath tickling her forehead. “You’re running out of oxygen and you’re not thinking clearly. Let’s just get out of here, alright?”

The understanding clicked into place just a beat slower than it ought to have –sufficient proof that he was right. Clara calmed herself, trying to pull her traitorous lower body back under control. “Fair enough.”

She gripped the end of the screwdriver and withdrew it. Within a few minutes, she had worked it back down and pointed it toward (what she had to guess was) the seam of the casket. It was short work to loosen the hinges enough that the Doctor could push the lid off of them. As she tumbled out, Clara took in enormous lungfuls of air. The room without, a smallish chapel by the looks of it, was nearly as dark as it had been inside the long, narrow box. But it still felt like a miracle just to see the outlines of her hands in front of her face, again.

The Doctor rose slowly and stiffly, reminding her vaguely of an old-timey vampire film. He climbed out with his back to her, brushing off the front of his jacket.

“Doctor…” She didn’t have the slightest idea what to say but something needed saying, didn’t it?

 “Oxygen deprivation has been known to have certain..erm… physiological effects on the body. Even Time Lords aren’t necessarily fully immune...” He started, sounding for all the world like that science teacher at Uni who put the whole class to sleep during every lecture.

“Yeah, I think I’ve read about that.” She interrupted quickly. If he wanted to believe that what had happened in there was all due to a lack of oxygen, who was she to disillusion him? She might be his Impossible Girl, but this situation was just getting a little too impossible, even for her. The levels of denial she had to keep piling up, just to make this work, were getting unmanageable. She took another deep breath. It was time to simplify.

She had feelings for the Doctor; strong, terrifying feelings. Some of which were still making themselves known by way of her soaked knickers.

But what she had with Danny was real and solid and he didn’t run away from the prospect of being intimate with her.

Today had been a test, if nothing else. If the Doctor needed to rationalize the experience badly enough to provide that utter crap explanation… perhaps it really was never meant to be.

Clara closed her eyes, coming to a decision. She would focus it all on Danny, now. She would be his and only his, from here on.

When they had both stretched out their aching limbs a bit and sorted their rumpled clothing, she finally dared to approach The Doctor. “Don't worry about it, ok? Tomorrow’s a new day. I‘m sure it won't come up again.”

The Doctor quirked at eyebrow at her word choice and she blushed for probably the millionth time.

 “I just can't say anything right today, can I?” She huffed. Desperately needing to change the subject, she indicated the squat chapel door. “Well, at any rate, we can’t stand around here all day, there are baddies out there about to make off with a precious artifact that we stole fair and square.” She smiled tentatively up at him.

He contemplated her with an intensity that made her chest feel too tight. A moment later, the look was gone, replaced by a more familiar heavy-browed smirk. He nodded. “Good thing I placed a tracking device inside the vase before they got to us.”

Her smile broadening, she took his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, I believe we shall.” After they stepped outside, he looked around. “First thing’s first – Wherever did I leave the TARDIS?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trapped in a tight space = awkward untimely erection is one of my fave tropes and I have been really eager to use it :-)
> 
> As I was writing, I started getting way darker than I wanted to. So, I scrapped half the first draft and went with a possible explanation for why she suddenly felt the need to profess undying love and devotion to Danny in the next episode. I have no problem with Danny, but I thought the writing really forced the OMG I LOVE YOU 5EVER part of their relationship without ever really showing it develop. That said, I have no doubt that Clara truly loved Danny. 
> 
> R.I.P. Danny Pink


	4. The Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara is trapped and she needs a distraction. The Doctor obliges. 
> 
> Spoilers for "The Witch's Familiar".

****“Because I would never kill you.”

Clara felt tears streaming down her face. Her breath was coming short. Deepest fears of abandonment, death at the hands of her dearest friend flitting through her partly mechanized mind. She kept a tight grasp on the emotion, on the fear. Fear would make the gun fire and that was the last thing she wanted. “You are the last person I would ever kill.”

_Please hear me_ , she pleaded silently.

“Open your casing.”

“How?”

The Doctor would know. He always knew.

“Just think the word _open_ ,” he ordered. “It’ll  work.”

Clara focused hard on the word ‘open’ and with a series of motorized noises, The Doctor was revealed to her. Her blood rushed in her ears as an all-consuming sense of relief flooded through her. For just that moment, she was grateful to be sitting inside the Dalek, lest her legs give out beneath her. With half an ear, she heard Missy lying through her teeth.

The Doctor gruffly told the Time Lady to run, but his eyes never left Clara. Missy kept talking, something about friends and enemies, enemies and friends. It was of no matter, right now. Not when The Doctor was looking at her like that. She could feel his concern, mingled with the joy that she was still alive. She could feel how badly it had hurt him to think that he had lost her for good, it loomed like a ghost, a shadow in his eyes.

He stooped to place his hands on either side of her face, long fingers brushing the wires that invaded her brain.

Electrical impulses, twitches just below the surface of her gray matter, still emanated from the cords. She was still plugged in. They grated on her a little, like an itch that had gone unscratched for too long. A tickle inside her brain. She might have found that funny, or at least interesting, under different circumstances. As it was, the keen sense of terror was beginning to ebb away, but with it had gone the adrenaline keeping her alert and in control. Her hands trembled and she held them fast in her lap. Her heart was still racing.

The Doctor distractedly told Missy to run, once more, pretending to ignore her cheap parting shot.

He took a deep breath, his hands still framing her face, just grazing her temples. “Clara… this is going to hurt.”

“It did going in,” she admitted. “I could only guess it would coming out.”

The Doctor licked his lips, studying the place the wires were embedded. “It could be a lot worse coming out. I haven’t… We don’t have time for a proper extraction. I’m sorry, Clara. I’m very sorry.” He grasped the cables and she could feel the first tug.

Clara grit her teeth against it as a blinding pain shot through both temples. It was a searing fire, snaking its way through her mind. She felt herself whimper against clenched teeth. The Doctor was pulling as best he could but the wires held fast. Another yank, followed by throbbing so hard, it felt as though her skull would shatter. She could hear him making noises of frustration over the thrumming in her own ears.  And the pain continued. Pulsing and excruciating, it only built and built until she could contain it no longer.

Clara screamed. She hadn’t even realized it until the pain relented.

 It was still a dull ache on both sides of her head, slightly worse than the ‘ice cream headache’ at Christmas. And she could still feel the machine, attached. Was she still controlling it? Or was it controlling her, now?

_No. I am in control. I am Clara Oswald._

The building shook beneath them, she could feel the vibrations even through the thick metal around her. The Doctor nearly fell to the side, then righted himself.

“Oh, my Clara… what have you gotten yourself into?” The Doctor exhaled, rubbing one hand over his face.

“Why isn’t it working?” Clara sobbed.

The Doctor shook his head, touching the cables again, gingerly.

Clara winced as even that sent a jolt through her. “Doctor?”

“You’re afraid.”

“I’m trapped in a Dalek on a planet being destroyed by its own dead! Of course I’m bloody afraid!” She retorted, irritated by his relative calm.

“And you’re angry,” The Doctor looked at her pointedly, his eyebrows meeting in the middle.

“Yes, okay. I am. I know I was stupid enough to let her put me in this thing in the first place, but I have every right to be… Oh.” Clara’s mouth snapped shut as The Doctor’s words sunk in.

Fear. Anger.

All the things a Dalek needs most to thrive.

“You need to focus, Clara. Clear your mind of fear and hurt and anger. Just distract yourself long enough for me to pull you free. Can you do that for me?” His voice was low, almost lulling her by its gravelly tone, despite the chaos of their surroundings.

Keeping her gaze locked on his piercing one, Clara nodded.  She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. It wasn’t easy, as the building juddered once more, a large crack splitting the wall behind The Doctor.

_Can’t focus on that._

_I am  Clara Oswald. I am from Blackpool and I travel through space and time with my best friend, The Doctor. And he will save me. He will get me out of this._

Clara closed her eyes.  She breathed as steadily as she could, pushing it all away. Trying to focus on things that brought her peace and calm and…

“Oh bloody hell!”

The Doctor gave her a hearty push as a part of the ceiling crashed over where they’d been standing. He ducked back into her line of sight, his face half apologetic. “Okay, give it another go.”

Clara exhaled loudly. “I can’t just not be scared at all right now! I can’t focus on… on not being here and being trapped inside a Dalek! It’s a bit overwhelmingly on my mind, right now… I can’t… I need…”

And suddenly his mouth was on hers, dry and soft, just a little warmer than she’d have expected. He swallowed her litany in a beat of both hearts. In her surprise, Clara almost forgot to react. Her mouth was slightly open and she felt a swipe of his tongue. That was when she remembered what a kiss felt like and that this definitely qualified. 

Not one to miss an opportunity, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pressed her mouth back to his. She felt his hand caress her cheek as he deepened the kiss, tasting her thoroughly. She tilted her head to gain better access, greeting his tongue with hers, and he groaned slightly. Her cheeks grew hot, heady arousal rolling its way down her spine to center at the apex of her legs. Just as her lungs were starting to remind her of the importance of oxygen, she felt two sharp twinges on either side of her head.

The Doctor pulled away, two points of color high on his cheeks but looking otherwise quite pleased with himself. “There. You’re free.”

He stood abruptly and offered her a hand.

Dazed, Clara took it, pulling herself out of the Dalek shell just as the building gave another great rumble. “Um. Yeah… thanks.”

The Doctor cleared his throat, not quite meeting her eye. “Don’t mention it.” He ran a hand through his steely curls.

In the distance, they could hear a great commotion. Both of their heads turned toward the noise. Dalek voices raised in confusion, guns firing akimbo as their world crumbled around them.

Clara looked up at The Doctor. He grinned down at her, that familiar spark returning.  “Right. Now, let’s go get the Tardis!”

With her hand tucked back in his, they took off at a run.


	5. The Console

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Before the Flood

Inspired by this:

 

Clara backed up against the console, leaning back slightly on her hands. “What will UNIT do with the ghosts?”

The Doctor walked toward her as he explained the technicalities but she was only half listening. He stopped in front of her, briefly before starting to step to the side. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back toward her. She felt him hesitate slightly but give in. They stood nearly toe to toe, the fingers of their joined hands entwined.

“I thought I’d lost you, today.” Clara swallowed hard around the lump that had risen in her throat.

“Yeah, that seems to be going ‘round, lately.” His eyes flicked away and then back to her face. “Good thing I’ve got a time machine or we’d be in real trouble.

Clara shook her head, smiling fondly up at him. “Yeah, otherwise it’s just a lark.”

He gave her that shy, toothy grin that he’d been giving a lot more lately. “Piece of cake.”

They stared at one another for a long moment, the silence filled with secrets. Clara’s lips felt ready to burst from holding the words back. In a panic, she had begged for him to love her enough to return to her. And he had. But was it just because The Doctor always returned? Or had it really been for her? Did he even feel love the way that she did? Did his hearts pound near to splitting open his chest when she was close?

No, he wasn’t her boyfriend. She’d loved and lost one of those, already.

The Doctor was so much more. He was the ever expanding Universe, infinite in his way and just as unknowable. He would outlive her by centuries, his name scattered across the stars as her faded to dust and nothingness. She’d dispersed herself throughout his lifetimes but in essence, she was still small and human and fragile. So easily broken or lost. How could she even expect him to love her in such a small and human way?

But then again, he had gone to Hell for her. He had set an entire planet to self-destruct when he thought she was dead. Just today, it seemed he had reordered time for her.  She was very eager to ask about that last one, but there would be time for that later. For now, The Doctor’s eyes were roving her face, as if seeking the key to a riddle. His generally cool hand was growing warm in hers.

She took a breath and pushed herself forward. “I wouldn’t have minded the morning breath, you know.”

The Doctor blinked down at her. “I’d been in a coffin for 150 years. I thought it was a courtesy.”

“Could have been worse. You could’ve been eating garlic,” she rejoined.

The Doctor’s heavy eyebrows knit. “That hardly seems worse than…”

Clara exhaled loudly. “Oh, you stupid man. Are you going to kiss me or not?”

The Doctor looked taken aback and Clara worried she’d made a mistake by being so flippant. Before she could backtrack, he asked, “Is that… something we do, now?”

Her heart flipped on its axis, hope bubbling up from within. “Since Skaro? Yeah, I’d say so.”

She watched his jaw work as his eyes ran across anything that wasn’t her. “That was just a distraction. A… tactic.” He shrugged, beginning to pull his hand from hers.

Clara held him fast. Now that she’d finally worked up the courage to say it, she was not about to let him walk away from her. “Well, it worked. I’ve been pretty distracted ever since.” She raised an eyebrow at him. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he flushed slightly.

 “Clara…” his tone was plaintive, just this side of pleading.

Reluctantly, she released him. Her stomach sank into her toes. Perhaps she was still reading this all wrong. If she thought his previous incarnation sent mixed signals, it was nothing compared to the stick insect with whom she was currently and irrevocably in love. They had finally gotten past that touching barrier, and she’d been so hopeful. He hugged her now, on purpose. Even for no apparent reason on one or two recent occasions.

She sagged back against the console, disappointed.  “Sorry. My mistake. Unless I’m just that bad a kisser,” she joked, half-heartedly.

He cocked his head to the side, looking almost amused (damn him!) – or as amused as anyone with those eyebrows could look. “Fishing for compliments now, are we?”

Clara shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest and affecting nonchalance. As if her little gambit hadn’t just failed miserably. As if she wasn’t falling apart and aching with the need to just say the thing that really mattered, for once. “With you, sometimes I have to.” 

The Doctor looked at her pensively. “You’re doing something with your face again. That sad smiling thing. You know I hate that. Have one emotion at a time or don’t have them at all, I say.” 

A surprised laugh escaped her, then, though there was no humor in it. “That’s not how emotions work. You don’t just pick one and say ‘oh alright, I suppose I’ll wear my annoyed face today. But I could change it for a smile if the weather gets better.’ I can’t always control what my face is doing or how I’m feeling or who I…” She clamped her mouth shut before anything else could escape. 

How could she have even expected him to see her the way she wanted to be seen? Not long after the ghost adventure through time, he’d been telling her to get another boyfriend!

 _See me_ , he’d said to her once,  _just see me_. 

Now that she did, all she wanted was the same courtesy. 

 _See me, Doctor_ , she thought.  _Just see me, here in front of you. Wanting you._

The Doctor moved back, bending until his face was nearly level with hers. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes scanned her face, lingering at the downturned corners of her mouth. He frowned. "I've upset you."

"I just want you to see me," she whispered, in a voice so low she could barely hear herself. 

"Of course I see you. I always see you, Clara. I will always -"

"Don't." She held two fingers to his lips to silence him. "I don't want to talk about always or forever or even tomorrow. Can we just be here, now?" She moved her hand to cup his hard jaw. She felt it flex beneath her touch but he did not move away. She softened her voice and continued. "And I don't want a hobby or another boyfriend. So, don't ever say that to me again, yeah?"

His pupils were wide and dark, nearly blotting out the blue of his irises. This close, she could hear his breathing growing ragged. But his face remained a blank, somewhere between concern and confusion. "You seemed to like having one," he answered in a neutral tone. 

Clara took a deep breath. "Oh, I do. Like having one." She looked pointedly at him. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, but not before Clara got a glimpse of the emotions warring there. "Clara, I'm not... I can't be..." he stammered. 

"Doctor?"

He reopened his eyes, yearning and hungry, drinking her in. "Yes?" he breathed. 

"Shut up." Placing her other hand on his face to frame it, she drew his mouth to hers.

He went without hesitation, his long arms folding her into his torso. She melted against him, trying to pour so many unspoken words into her kiss. One of her hands buried itself in his thick curly hair, the other still stroking his cheek. She teased the seam of his lips with her tongue and he parted them instantly. His hands seemed to grow bolder as they kissed, running up and down her sides and back, fluttering just over the curve of her arse. When she pulled back just enough to breathe, The Doctor nibbled his way along her jaw, nuzzling her neck. As soon as she turned back to capture his mouth once more, he made a guttural noise, low and feral.

Without further warning, he gripped her waist with both hands and hoisted her onto the console. She gave a little yelp of surprise that he chased from her lips. She scooted back slightly, careful of the various knobs and buttons, opening her legs for him to step between them. Once more body to body, and this time in a far more intimate position, Clara felt an electricity running up her spine (that she was fairly certain was not due to a loose wire on the circuit board beneath her). She wrapped both legs around his slim hips, grinding her center into his. And she could feel him, hot and hard, pressed against her core. Pressure exactly where she needed it most.

She whimpered, shunting her hips shamelessly against him, greedy for more. And he seemed happy to oblige, for once. Thrusting blindly against one another, their kisses turned messy and biting. Pure desire driving her forward, her body worked almost of its own accord, seeking out that pleasure, climbing that peak. The Doctor was gripping her hips now, hard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. And it only served to heighten the sensation. She was so close, so close…

She broke with a cry, the kiss ending abruptly as she shuddered against him. He stilled, moving his hands from her hips to wrap his arms loosely around her. Panting and flushed, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. She clung to him in silence, feeling boneless and entirely overwhelmed. 

Well, that had been… unexpected.


	6. The Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after The Zygon Inversion

If Clara had expected a few kisses to change things between them, she’d have been vastly disappointed. Luckily, she had grown quite accustomed to things left unsaid. Time had passed, most of it in the right order. The Doctor had saved the world, again. Same old, same old.

Today, a truce had been declared and the Zygons had a new leader. The Doctor was saying his goodbyes as Clara expertly manipulated the settings of the Tardis, planning their next adventure.

 “You must have thought I was dead for a while,” she observed.

“Yeah,” came the brusque reply.

“How was that?” She probably shouldn’t ask, but impulse control had never been a strong point with Clara.

“Longest month of my life.”

She glanced up, curiously. “Could only have been five minutes.”

He punched in a few details and crossed behind her. “I’ll be the judge of time.”

With that, he gave her one of those enigmatic looks and moved to the other side of the console.

The Tardis engine whirred and Clara stepped back. She leaned against the railing, drinking him in. All that past and future, all those things that he would never say aloud. All bound up in long, lean fingers and twitching eyebrows. All that raw emotion strung taut just below the surface. She knew firsthand that it would roll off him like a force of nature, a lightening storm, a typhoon, should he release even a bit of it. He’d broken just a little only a few weeks ago, pushing her up on the console, kissing her senseless and making her…

And then he’d walked away, chattering about his clever defeat of the King Fisher. Acting as though he was completely unaffected. The tell-tale tenting of his trousers the only indication that the encounter even happened. Clara had slid to her feet, stunned nearly speechless – a look The Doctor might have quite liked on her if he’d been willing to even acknowledge what had just passed between them. When she made an attempt to recapture the mood, he’d simply darted away, telling her he needed something in the library. He disappeared down a hallway and the next thing she knew, the door had opened onto her living room.

After waiting a few minutes to see if he’d return, Clara had left in a bit of a huff. She spent the rest of the week wondering if the Tardis even had a library.

When he had returned the following Wednesday, Clara’s temper had had time to cool. Alright, she told herself, he isn’t ready to talk about it. She could be an adult about this. She could be patient with him. Someone had to be, yeah? And how could she possibly turn down a chance to see the Hidden Diamond Valley of Palosi?

Talking could wait, she thought.

Of course, she was regretting the waiting when she was suspended in space with a brain-hungry creature crawling up her body. Apparently, the Diamond Valley was hidden because you had to get through the Spider Mines to get there. And then there were the battle cruisers and everything just happened so fast. The Vikings had been nearly a picnic, in comparison.

But the Doctor had been different on that trip. He hadn’t immediately waltzed in to save the day. He’d been afraid. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’d been almost… human. It was unnerving to see him humbled but almost more so when he reclaimed his power. With one executive decision, he’d made Ashildr effectively immortal.

The girl had thanked him for it, then. But would she later? Would she still be grateful as the world died and changed around her? In saving her, The Doctor had cursed her, as well. He knew it and Clara had seen the weight of it falling on his already too-heavy shoulders.

For all he never mentioned it anymore, Clara was still a part of his time stream. The memories were fuzzy and unfocused, but the pain cut too deeply to forget. She'd felt his victories. And she’d felt his losses. Always more of the latter. Losing over and over, chipping away at both hearts. Each one a fracture that would never fully heal.

Someday, she’d be another of those cuts. Did he think she didn’t feel that too?

She couldn’t remember in reverse, but she was intuitive enough to know that separation – in one form or another – was always imminent. She thought she’d lost him so many times already, but somehow it never ceased to hurt. Her own heart was beginning to crack under the pressure of so many unknowns.

Being with The Doctor was painful, in its own way. But being without him… no, she’d tried that. She would endure. She would splinter from within before she could even think of giving him up.

_She might meet someone she can’t bear to lose. That happens, I believe._

A lump rose in Clara’s throat, her eyes burning as they traced the lean line of her Doctor. He was still busying himself with things that didn’t need doing, quick, precise movements. He wasn’t filling the silence, this time. Perhaps he was tired. She knew she was.

It was no surprise when they landed in her flat, the door opening into her bedroom with a snap of his fingers. He must have changed her coordinates. She was too knackered to care.

He gave a tight lipped smile. “Thought you might like a rest.”

She looked between him and the open door. “Trying to get rid of me, already?”

He frowned. “It’s been a busy day. Humans need rest.” He began punching coordinates into the computer. “If you’re up for another trip already, there’s a lovely sunset on the planet of the Valdeen. Lasts three days and it’s got colors you’ll never find on Earth…” He looked up, questioningly.

Clara smiled. “Tell you what, why don’t we both have just a quick rest and then go watch that sunset?” She closed the space between them and took his hand.

He looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t need rest.”

“Hmmph.” She gave his arm a little tug. “Come on. It’ll just be a few minutes. Not like you can’t afford a few minutes. You’ve got a time machine.”

The tip of his tongue darted out to swipe across his bottom lip. “Clara…”

“Not taking ‘no’ for an answer, Doctor.” She pulled him with her to the door. He offered only minimal resistance, trotting behind her like a tamed pet. She’d been dying to touch him all day but it hadn’t felt appropriate with UNIT and then Osgood around. The rest of the world didn’t need to know about the things they did in private. But they’d been separated far too often lately and she needed to feel close to him for a little while. There was no point putting it in words, he’d only find a way to twist them. Actions worked better for them. Always had, really.

At the edge of her bed, she pushed his jacket from his shoulders. He made a light sound of protest but she silenced him with a look. His throat worked as she pulled her dress over her head, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. She had a slip on underneath, just plain white polyester, nothing sexy. But the Doctor averted his eyes nonetheless.

“Won’t you be cold like that?” he asked, studying her ceiling intently.

“That’s what blankets are for,” she answered, peeling back the covers and kicking off her shoes. “Shoes off, too. And anything, um, pointy. Maybe empty your pockets?”

At that he met her gaze and raised an eyebrow.

She gave a half grin and shrugged. “You’re angular enough as it is.” She slid beneath the blankets and edged to the opposite side of the bed. She patted the empty space beside her.

The Doctor’s mouth opened slightly and then closed again. “I don’t think that…”

“It’s just a cuddle, Doctor. It’s like a hug only a bit longer. Promise I won’t bite.” She waggled both eyebrows. “Unless you’re into that.”

With a muttered word she couldn’t quite make out, the Doctor folded himself onto her bed. His feet nearly stuck over the far edge and he was stiff as a board beside her.

With a sigh, Clara arranged the blankets around them. “Act like you’ve never been in a bloody bed before,” she said, half under her breath.

“Not this bed,” he said quietly. “Not with...you.”

Oh. Well, that was alright then.

She shifted on her side and touched the side of his face gently. “Doctor, look at me.”

He took a ragged breath and turned his head. His eyes searched hers, sad and yearning and unfathomable as always.

She leaned in slowly, giving him time to realize her intention. He stayed put and she brushed her lips to his.

He was so still for a moment, she nearly pulled back. Then his hand was cupping her face and his lips firm against hers as he rolled onto his side to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted to suckle his lower lip and he made a deliciously low sound of pleasure. She snaked her arm beneath the blanket and around his waist, pulling them body to body. His upper hand stroked her hair, burying his fingers in it at the nape of her neck. She hummed her appreciation and flicked his upper lip with her tongue.

With a straggled half-laugh, he pulled back, looking at her with an expression of… if she hadn’t known better, she might have called it awe. Which didn’t make sense, really. She knew she was a fox, but here was a man (alright, Time Lord) who had seen over half the wonders of the known universe (and some of the unknown). And yet he was looking at her like… her heart clenched in her chest and she took a deep breath.

She settled onto the pillow, so close she was nearly cross-eyed with trying to meet his gaze. “Why’d you stop?”

His lips curved upwards, hand still stroking her hair. “Won’t get much rest that way.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Her eyelids were awfully heavy and she’d been stifling yawns for hours. Being trapped in a pod with a Zygon in your head made for a busy day, after all. “If I fall asleep, promise you won’t run off?”

“But what if –”

She tightened the arm she had wrapped around him. “Promise?”

He smiled, his face softening. “Yes, boss.”

“Good.” Clara tucked her head under his chin, finding all the ways her petite frame fit nicely against his larger one, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	7. The Holo-telly

Clara woke slowly, wondering for a moment how her pillow had gotten so bony and why it sounded a bit like a set of drums under her ear.

Oh, right.

She’d fallen asleep on the Doctor. He must have shifted them at some point because she was no longer simply resting near him. He was half-sitting, with practically every pillow she owed tucked behind him. She was draped part of the way over his chest, her head on his sternum and one arm looped over his slim waist. He held her in place with an arm around her shoulders, his hand resting innocuously at her rib cage.  Her legs were curled behind her with the top of one thigh pressing into the side of his. Her back would probably hurt from sleeping like that, later. She made a mental note to pick up some paracetamol. In the Doctor’s free hand, he held something that looked a bit like an iphone, but the color scheme was all off and it was projecting a small, rectangular hologram. He seemed to be flicking through channels of what looked suspiciously like intergalactic cable shows.

She bit back a grin. If he had an idea how incredibly domestic this all was, he’d run a mile. She wondered if she ought to say something but decided against it. She was already thinking it so loudly, it was a wonder he hadn’t jumped up.

“Did you know that you snore?” he asked, apropos of nothing. Of course he knew she was awake. 

Clara rolled her eyes. So much for enjoying the moment. “Do not.”

“You do. And you talk in your sleep. Something about rabbits. Not very entertaining.” The screen changed. Clara thought for a minute she saw tentacles and turned her head, not wanting to confirm.

She could see his face now, but his eyes were still on the picture his device was projecting. “Rabbits?”

“Mm. Boring thing to dream about, if you ask me.”

“I wonder what Freud would say,” she shifted to sit up, wincing as she realized the arm that had been wedged beneath her had gone to sleep

“Probably something about cigars,” the Doctor supplied, distractedly. “We could go ask him if you like.”

“Hmph.” Clara rubbed at the pins and needles in her arm, trying not to openly grimace. “Let’s save the visit to Vienna for another day, shall we?”

Without a word, the Doctor set down his device to grip her arm with both hands. He applied pressure lightly at regular intervals and the pain eased. Clara flexed her fingers until all the feeling had returned.

“Thank you.”

 He nodded and took back up the little hologram screen.

Clara sat up the rest of the way, the blankets falling away as she stretched and ran her fingers through her hair. She probably looked a fright but the Doctor had seen far worse than her morning face, at this point. She looked back over to ask if he might want something to eat when her eye fell, of its own accord, just below his belt.

That was no sonic screwdriver in his trousers. He was clearly fully erect, straining against the zipper. And he was completely ignoring it.

He noticed the direction of her gaze and they both froze for a moment. He muttered something under his breath that the Tardis didn’t translate, two points of color sitting high on his cheeks. He drew the blankets back up, not meeting her gaze.

She licked her lips, all thought of food now forgotten. Her mind was blazing with the memory of him between her legs on the Tardis, driving her relentlessly up that peak and then taking nothing for himself. Surely it would be alright if she returned the favor…

“You don’t have to hide it from me, you know. Not anymore. Not after…”

He pretended to return his attention to his screen but she knew him well enough by now to recognize a front. “It’s fine. Goes away on its own, most of the time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Most of the time? So, what do you do when it... doesn’t?” Heat pooled at the apex of her thighs as she pictured him taking himself in hand. She wondered if he thought about her when he did… 

He looked pained, eyes slamming shut, all pretense of watching space telly forgone. “I’m not a bloody monk. Well, not anymore. What do you think?”

“You could always ask for a hand…” she offered, only half joking.

His whole face colored momentarily. “I wouldn’t…. that isn’t…”

She shifted closer, bringing one hand to his thigh and giving a squeeze. “I wouldn’t mind…”

The holo-telly (or whatever it was) got thrown onto her nightstand and he was plainly making to stand up.

Clara scrambled over his lanky form, straddling his hips and pinning his shoulders back against the pillows with both hands.

“Wait. I want to talk about this.”

His lips pressed to a thin line. “I don’t.”

She lowered herself, her needy core centered just over the hard line of him. A jolt of pleasure shot up her spine as she felt him pulse at the contact. “You sure about that?”

His mouth dropped open and he looked at her, slack-jawed. She could feel his hands, one beside each of her calves, fist in the sheet. “Clara…”

She locked her eyes on his, searching them intently. “Tell me… tell me you don’t want me right where I am, Doctor, and I’ll move. But if you say it, you have to mean it.” She rolled her hips, wondering if he could feel her heat through his trousers.

He took a long shuddering breath. “Clara… I can’t… we….” He cleared his throat. “We're friends. Friends don't do... that."

Clara laughed, sitting back, her hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest. "Like Hell they don't. And, Doctor, I hate to tell you this but this train passed the friendship stop a long time ago. We've just been going round in circles ever since.”

After a long silence, he blinked at her. “Oh.”

The Doctor said nothing more but his hands moved from the sheets to rest gingerly at her hips. He looked at her curiously and she realized he was awaiting her assent. She nodded.

His touch grew firmer as he slid both hands up to her waist, shaping the contours of her body. He touched her reverently, as though she were a precious artifact he’d just unearthed, a look of determination on his face.

Clara gave him leave to explore at his leisure, leaning into those caresses she liked best and making soft noises of encouragement.

He seemed to gain confidence from her reaction, pulling her toward him so that he could fit his fingers between her ribs, his thumbs just brushing the underside of each breast. Her nipples were already hard and aching as he cupped her breasts gently. He leaned forward, one hand coming to the small of her back to hold her in place as he planted an open mouthed kiss at the hollow of her throat. Then, he turned his head sideways to press it against her chest, resting there for several breaths. Both long arms encircled her.

"Do friends do that, too?" He asked, his brogue thick and vibrating against her skin.

"I... I think they can," she breathed, afraid to startle him and ruin the moment. 

"Good." 

Clara ran her hands through his soft silver curls. “Do you want this, Doctor? To be with me, like this?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She had to know he wasn’t going to simply walk off again and pretend it never happened. “Please, just tell me…”

She felt him nod, felt his breath against her breast. “My Clara…” he murmured.

Biting back a smile, she snaked her hands between the, moving toward his zipper. He batted them away, lifting her bodily from him and depositing her on the bed. He stretched out beside her and traced his fingertips along her jaw. She tilted her face to see him. His eyes were dark with want, his lips curling into an enigmatic half-smile. He looked oddly… lost. Lost and full of longing, as though she was much further away than on the bed beside him.

It frightened her for a moment, the way he was looking at her. So, she kissed him.

He gave himself over to the kiss completely, this time. She could feel him, no longer holding back. He gathered her close, rocking his hips against hers. His hands studied every knob of her spine before coming to rest at her buttocks. She parted her legs around one of his slim thighs, shamelessly seeking friction against it. His hands grasped and kneaded her arse as his mouth continued to tease and explore hers.

She felt herself losing control of the kiss and, just this once, she didn’t mind so much. She had a feeling the Doctor was no more at the helm than she was.

Eventually they had managed to rid one another of every stitch of clothing and she thrilled at the skin to skin contact. She kissed each of his ribs and both nipples before burying her nose in the sparse patch of gray chest hair around them. He, in turn, seemed obsessed with tasting every inch of her exposed flesh. He traced her bellybutton with his tongue and nibbled each hipbone. He nipped at the insides of her elbows and feathered kisses along the arch of her foot until she made him stop because it tickled.

His long clever fingers found their way to where she was most wanting, drawing forth sounds she was nearly embarrassed to be making. He brought her to that peak twice before she begged to feel him inside of her. With an almost feral sound, he acquiesced.

Oh, he acquiesced like a bloody dream, letting Clara flip them over and ride him. She did so with abandon, desperate to see him as undone as she felt. He fit her so perfectly and he looked so beautiful as she made him her own with a judicious downward thrust.  He cried out her name, arms pulling her into his chest.

They hadn’t gone long enough for her to get there a third time, but he assured her Gallifreyan males had a very short refractory period.

Which he soon proved to be true.

Twice.

***

After they had cleaned up and eaten their weight in Chinese take-away, it was back on the Tardis. The Doctor dropped an unexpected kiss to the top of her head as he moved away to the console.

“So, uh… you still not my boyfriend, then?” Clara asked, teasingly.

The Doctor gave her a long, solemn look over the flickering lights. “It’s not like that.”

Clara shrugged, affecting nonchalance, despite the way the air suddenly felt too warm and the room too bright. “It’s fine, Doctor. Not everything needs a label. I’m a modern – ”

“Clara,” he interrupted, “Time Lords don’t… we marry and we reproduce within one regeneration but we don’t… mate for life the way that humans do.” A wry, humorless grin. “Too many lives.”

Clara’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t expecting…” She shook her head. “Anyway, most humans don’t even mate for life, these days. If we did the divorce rates wouldn’t be so high.” 

He gave her a tight smile and turned back to the console. “Alright, so where to next, Miss Oswald?”

Clara inhaled deeply. This would still take some getting used to. How things could change so vastly and yet stay exactly the same. All those words still left unsaid, explanations put off for another day. She tilted her head to one side, hands on her hips. “Let’s go somewhere fun. Surprise me, Doctor. I trust you.”

 


	8. The Lazy Day

Clara stretched, cat-like, and rolled onto her side. She hadn’t expected to be tired after getting trapped in the Morpheus device, but all that rushing adrenaline seemed to have taken its toll. It was just barely light outside and she didn’t have work today. She contemplated a lazy day in bed. Did the Doctor do lazy days? Probably not.

Propping her head up on one hand, she blinked dozily at her non-sleeping companion. He was intently reading something on her Kindle. She grinned. He consistently insulted her inferior technology and yet she’d managed to get him hooked on the device. Of course, he’d hacked it to access pretty much any book published in any time since its invention, so long as the language was Earth compatible.

Her stomach gave a rumble and she put a hand over it. There’d been so much excitement on the abandoned ship, the night before, they’d plumb forgotten to eat. Some foolish part of Clara rather had been hoping for a space restaurant, so she’d gone light on supper. Then what she actually got were sleep dust monsters. Served her right for having such mundane expectations.

Still, she couldn't complain that a date with the Doctor was ever boring. And it absolutely was a date, all not-your-boyfriends aside. After the last several adventures, they’d tumbled into bed together, natural as breathing. Once or twice, it really had been for a bit of a rest – though there was usually some snogging in between her naps. If that didn’t qualify their excursions for date status, she’d eat her designer boots.

At least, there was a perceptible shift in the way things stood between them, now. She couldn’t put it in words but she could feel it. There was a looseness about the Doctor, in the way he treated her, smiled more easily. He’d even bantered, last night. Though she wasn’t about to call it that while he could hear her.

She eyed him as he studied the page in front of him then tapped the screen to bring up the next. She’d still never actually seen him sleep. He’d been awake when she fell into a sticky, sated doze, late last night. In a groggy, half-lucid dream, she could have sworn she felt him holding her while she slept. Spooned up behind her with his long legs curled under her bottom. Some part of her had known he was sleeping, too. Now, he looked as though he hadn’t moved at all. Did he feel her wake up and pretend not to have slept at all?

Clara bit back a giggle as she realized that was probably exactly what the silly sod had done. A wave of pure affection washed over her and she wondered if breakfast could wait a bit longer. As if in protest of this thought, her stomach grumbled again, louder this time.

The Doctor smoothed one hand from her waist to her hip. “Hungry?”

“Mm. Among other things,” she murmured, plucking the Kindle from his hands.

He looked over, raising one eyebrow in that way that always sent a frisson of excitement straight to her core. “Are humans always like this, or just you?”

“Like what?” she asked, coyly.

His mouth pursed but his eyes glinted down at her. “What is the word… needy? Greedy?”

Clara made a sound of mock outrage, sitting up to cross her arms under her breasts. “Call me needy again and you’ll deserve what you get…”

“Mm,” he sounded less than intimidated, his gaze lingering appreciatively on her breasts before returning to her face. “Insatiable. That’s the word. Are you all like that?”

Clara scoffed, feigning offense. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m the first person from Earth who’s ever gotten you into bed….”

“No. But… it’s been a while. I forget.” He looked thoughtful, the corners of his eyes crinkling with humor. “Might be one of the reasons I’ve always seemed to like it here, so much.”

He was clearly trying to bait her and Clara wasn't about to give in to it. Although, she did spend a moment considering which pillow might make the most impact if she smacked him with it.

She knew, both intuitively and from the faded half-memories they shared, there’d been other lovers before her. When he was in other bodies. There would be others after her, most likely. She never thought about them, if she could avoid it. This Doctor, grey and lean, with eyes like an electrical storm set under the angriest eyebrows she’d ever seen… This Doctor, with whipcord muscles roping his thighs and long, elegant callused fingers that mapped her body with increasing ease… he was all hers. At least for now. And now was all they had. All they’d ever had.

“Insatiable, is it?” She ran one hand through the silvery curls on his chest, circling each nipple with one finger and feeling them tighten. Adding a second finger, she ghosted her touch across his ribs and down to his taut stomach, feeling the muscles jump reflexively in anticipation. She pushed down the covers as she went. A fingertip dipped into his bellybutton and he took a sharp breath. For all his protestations of stoicism, she had learned his buttons pretty quickly. “Are you complaining, Doctor?”

He wet his lips but said nothing, his eyes gone so dark they were nearly all pupil.

“I think you don’t mind at all,” she continued, conversationally, wrapping her questing hand around his length. It pulsed in her grasp. His skin was usually quite cool to the touch but, when aroused, flared hot as any human male. Clara dipped her head to taste him and he groaned. It had taken her some convincing the first time they did this. He had been uncertain it would appeal to him in this body. She’d been very happy to prove him wrong. He would never reach completion like this, though. For that, he always needed to be inside her. Somehow, she’d found she didn’t mind.

She teased him with lips and tongue until he was gripping the sheets and panting.

“Clara…” he pleaded, hips thrusting shallowly.

“Admit it…” she murmured in a singsong voice, flicking her tongue over him once more.

He swore, or at least she was pretty certain it was a swear. When the Tardis didn’t translate something, she was beginning to make that assumption. “Clara…please…”

Clara’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re suddenly remembering your manners, you must be getting desperate.” She bit her lower lip, hand still pumping slowly. “Please, what?”

He ignored the jibe, reaching for her. “Let me touch you?”

Oh.

Oh ho ho, sneaky Doctor. He knew exactly how to steal back the upper hand. Because they both knew the moment he got those talented hands on her, she’d acquiesce. Infuriatingly clever man. She was aching for him, already.

_God, how did they go so long without doing this?_

In the end, Clara did give in, if only to avoid a stalemate. At least, that’s what she told herself as she let him press her into the mattress.

He nibbled and kissed his way down her body, taking extra care with those places he had learned would make her toes curl. She released a few choice words of her own once he reached the apex of her legs. He made good use of that silver tongue and those clever hands, driving her just to the brink and stopping several times before finally allowing her over.

Her legs were already shaking by the time they wrapped around his slim hips. He slid home with a groan of relief, holding her close as he buried himself deep. With slow, languid movements he brought them both to the edge. She fell first, a warm spiral of pleasure that radiated through her body. He followed soon after, whispering her name against her lips.

*** 

Later that day, he popped by her favorite childhood restaurant (that had been closed for 10 years in her own timeline) and brought back takeaway. She was pretty sure she didn’t remember them doing takeaway when they were open but she wasn’t about to look a gift-time traveler in the mouth.

After they’d filled their bellies, the Doctor looked at her expectantly.

“Well then, shall I take you somewhere old or new? Visit a star in supernova? Save a planet?”

Clara cocked her head, thinking. A lie-in had sounded tempting earlier, but now she was rested, sticking around just felt like overkill. And Clara Oswald was never one to turn down the chance at an adventure. Earth and her flat would still be there when she got back.

“Definitely somewhere new.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “Not sure I’m ready to jump straight back into the heroics at the moment, though. Not that I don’t always enjoy them.”

“Yeah, a little too much,” he half-jested, shooting her a heavy-browed look.

“Oh, says who?” she rolled her eyes, swatting playfully at his arm. She really did appreciate his concern, but not when he got over-protective about it. She was a big girl; she knew what she was getting herself into the moment she first set foot on the Tardis. So perhaps she did get a little reckless, at times. They’d always been able to work it out. Clara was a quick thinker, clever and competent. She was practically born to this life. And the Doctor always had her back. “Anyway, I can’t help being good at it, can I?”

He shrugged and mumbled something she was certain was a disparaging remark about the size of her ego. As though he had room to talk…  

She scooted closer to him on the sofa and rested her head against his shoulder. “Well…come on then. What do _you_ feel like doing, Doctor?”

After a moment, she felt his cheek atop her hair. “Oh, you know me. Always up for anything.”

Clara laughed, wondering if the innuendo was intentional. She laid her hand on his. He turned his upward and laced their fingers together.

“How ‘bout this,” she suggested, “let’s take a walk. Just a nice day out in time and space. Somewhere pretty.”

A stroll with her not-boyfriend through some attractive part of the universe. Perfect topper to what was shaping up to be a really lovely day. Maybe not the most action-packed, but solidly pleasant.

He nodded against her hair. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I know just the place.” He stood up, pulling her to her feet by their entwined hands. “How about the second most beautiful garden in the universe?”

She smiled. “Why not the first?”

“I’m, uh, I’m not so keen on that one. Some of the foliage and I have an unfortunate history.” He pulled a face but didn’t elaborate.

Clara shook her head, grinning fondly up at him.

This was her life, the highs and lows, the ebb and flow of excitement and all those little mundane moments in between that made the stars shine that much brighter. This was how it was meant to be. Running away in a big blue box with this impossible man, day after day. She still visited her old life, taught her students to love Jane Austen (though perhaps not in the same way she did) but it felt like putting a shoe on the wrong foot, lately. Nothing fit right on Earth until the Doctor was there and she was flying off with him into the unknown.

 “Alright, daft old man. Let’s go.”


	9. The Tardis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell Bent but with more kissing. And an added twist on the ending....

Just like old times, they were running for their lives, hand in hand. She’d been inches from death only moments before and now the Doctor was babbling away about matrixes and ghosts and she just wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t speak. But they had to keep moving. Had to find their way out of the cloisters below the capitol of Gallifrey.

The General caught up with them. Same uniform, different face.

Between the Doctor and the General, she discovered what had happened in the confession dial. Four and a half billion years with one goal in mind. Four and a half billion bloody years of torture, all to bring her back.

And she knew she had to say it, at last. The one thing she’d been holding back all this time. The one thing she had once promised never to say again. Her hands shook but her voice was steady as she poured out her heart in a low whisper.

For a moment, the Doctor said nothing. Then he drew her close, wrapping his arms around her small frame. Into her hair, he whispered, “I told you something once. About Time Lords and mating for life. Do you remember that?”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the rough fabric of his new jacket. “Yeah.”

“For you…” he took a deep breath, hands fisting in her jumper. “For you, I would.”

Clara clutched him all the closer, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I love you, Doctor.” she tasted the words once more. Nothing had ever felt so sweet on her lips. 

He murmured something in another language, Gallifreyan by the sound of it. She didn’t know the words themselves, but she knew exactly what they meant.

The General was still only feet away, waiting for an opportunity and in that moment, Clara made the biggest decision of her near-death life.

She lowered her voice even further. “Go, Doctor. Get the Tardis and come back for me. I have something to say to that lot and I promise they won’t be looking at you.”

He pulled back just enough to tilt her chin up with one finger. “My impossible girl…” With one lingering kiss, he sprang into action.

Clara moved toward the others at the doorway and did exactly as she promised, keeping them adequately distracted until the Tardis materialized around her. And then they were off to the end of the Universe for the second time in their travels.

But her heart… her heart would not beat. It felt so full, ready to burst. But it wouldn’t beat. And the Doctor… no, he could not be rightly called a Doctor when he talked like that. The mad man with a Tardis who only stopped when she stared him down. But they were interrupted before she could carry on.

Those four knocks came on the door and she should have known who it was. Who it had to be.

Clara didn’t even feel bad for spying on the Doctor and Ashildr. He’d have done just the same. And it hurt just a little to see him lie to the last person in the Universe.

“Just a friend,” he said.

Of course Ashildr knew better. Clever girl, wise beyond her years even before she was billions of centuries old.

It hurt even more when Clara heard what he intended to do. What he intended to take from her. She couldn’t help but confront him, though she was beginning to tremble. Would he really have told her otherwise? They’d always played a bit fast and loose with the truth.

Ashildr wandered off as they argued, probably to explore the Tardis.

The Doctor was getting desperate, she could hear it in his voice, in the way he was searching for a justification. “That stuff in your head, the image of me. They could use it to find you.”

“And what about ‘for life’, Doctor? What happened to that?”

He swallowed, jaw working visibly. “I meant it. This life and every one after.”

The full meaning of his words hit her like a blow to the gut. He would keep her memory for eternity. “Alone.”

He nodded and raised the neural block.

She held aloft the sunglasses, like a weapon or a shield, she wasn’t sure which. “I, uh, I used these.”

“On what?”

“That.” She indicated the device. Had the Doctor forgotten how clever she could be? Two peas in a Tardis they’d been for so long. Did he think she didn’t know how to do something as simple as reverse a polarity?

Clara fought to keep her yesterdays as best she could. How could she ever want to lose the greatest thing that had ever happened to her? Every precious, painful second… She’d rather no future at all then a past without him in it.

And in the end, the Doctor understood.

But something had to be done. They couldn’t just carry on, swanning about the universe disrupting time. Ashildr had been right. They were too dangerous together.

“One of us has to go.” He said, his eyes sadder than she’d ever seen them. Even when she died, there’d been hope. She hadn’t recognized it, then. But he’d been planning, already, even as they’d said those goodbyes.

Now… now it was just goodbye. No more plans and no more hope. And she hated a goodbye. 

They pressed the button together and nothing happened.

“We just, um, we just wait a minute, I suppose.”

Impulsively, Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket and brought her mouth to his. If every memory of every kiss they’d ever shared would be gone, she wanted just this one last time. One for the road.

He kissed her back just as fiercely, their bodies fitting together as though they’d been made to do so.

Against his lips, Clara whispered “I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

The Doctor pulled away, his arms falling limp to his sides, a strange expression on his face, “Clara, I don’t think you’re ever gonna have to…”

She watched as he slowly unraveled, weakening by the second. When he fell to the ground, still muttering platitudes and advice, Clara cradled his head on her lap for a few minutes and let herself cry. Ashildr found her like that and sat by her side, not saying a word.

It was oddly comforting.

The new Tardis was able to locate its phone box shaped mate quite easily and Clara flew that back while Ashildr took the helm of the one that, for some reason, now looked like an American diner. They flew both Tardises to the location on Earth the Doctor had picked and left the resting Doctor with a good Samaritan who agreed to follow their instructions.

Clara took one last, long look around the blue box before shutting it down into stealth mode. It would reappear when he was ready to find it. The old girl always knew what he needed. Clara stroked her finger lovingly across the keys.

“I know we had our differences once… but I’ll miss you, too. Thank you for always being there when I needed it. Please keep taking care of him. He needs you more than anyone else.”

The lights rose and dimmed just once and Clara knew the Tardis had heard her. She kissed her fingertips and touched them to the door as she exited.

In addition to a note she’d written on his chalkboard, Clara left him one more thing. She debated on whether or not it was wise, but in the end, heart won out over head. As it so often had with them.

She left the little truth telling device from the Surchief of Calpax. On it, she attached a post-it note with the words:

> _When you’re ready, when it’s safe. Just ask._

***

“How was I supposed to know he had a whole other set of arms?” Clara grinned, flailing both hands at her sides and making a silly face.

Ashildr gave a whoop of laughter, pulling the lever as they landed smoothly on a small moon in the middle of a star system that hadn’t been discovered in this time.

Clara was genuinely happy here. So many years, so many memories she’d fit between two beats of her heart. She and Ashildr had managed to fill the entire library from floor to ceiling with memory books and tales of their adventures. And the universe was still full of wonders.

One day she’d return to Gallifrey and face her waiting raven. One day, but not today.

“So, where to, next?” Ashildr asked, hand poised over the keyboard.

As Clara opened her mouth to answer, there was a knock on the door. Then three more.

Four. Very. Deliberate. Knocks.

If she still breathed, Clara’s breath might have caught. Her motionless heart felt as though it filled her throat.

Ashildr’s brow furrowed. “Who could be….Oh.”

They both realized it at once.

“It's always four knocks,” Clara murmured.

A slow smile curved across her face as she went to answer the door.

 


End file.
